


Lure the Wolf (Then Make Him Howl)

by Omni



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Derek Hale, Exhibitionism, Fingerfucking, Flavored Lube, M/M, Masturbation, No Plot/Plotless, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, talk of bottom stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 04:38:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1674947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omni/pseuds/Omni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is finally 18, and so decides it's time he and Derek stop dancing around each other.</p>
<p>(Honestly, there isn't enough plot to summarize.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lure the Wolf (Then Make Him Howl)

**Author's Note:**

> I REGRET NOTHING.

It was stupid and reckless, but Stiles was high on adrenalin from winning a game that didn't end in severe injuries or kidnappings. The others were out celebrating, had barely let him slip away despite his protests concerning a fictitious essay that was nearly due. 

So, none of them should be there for this. Except for one, his target audience, who had skipped out on the festivities in order to spend a quiet evening in his newly rebuilt home. 

Trembling hands worked at his fly, the sound of the zipper loud in that still forest. The thick oak tree was solid at his back, supporting him as he leaned against it and pushed his pants down around his thighs. His breath came in deep pulls that shuddered out of him as if he was freezing. He wasn't freezing, though. Sweat was already beading on his brow and the hot night air was thick on his skin, like a blanket he couldn't shrug off.

A bottle of lube was pulled from his sagging pants, its contents hastily poured onto a sweating hand. If he tilted his head just right, he could see the house. It was a beautiful place now, nothing of the old ruins left to tarnish its grandeur. A light was on upstairs, and Stiles wondered if that was Derek's room. If he was up there right now. Maybe he was doing this, too. What did Derek think about while he jerked it? What exactly did he do with himself? Was it always just working his dick, fucking up into a warm, tight fist? Or did he do some of the things Stiles did, let his fingers explore other areas, pressing deep and insistent until he cried out in frustration because it just wasn't _enough_?

Stiles' hand flew over his cock at the thoughts, his eyes locked on that glowing window. He let his breathing grow louder, let some sounds escape. He wasn't really trying to be quiet. Silence wasn't part of the plan. 

He thought he saw a silhouette in the window and a flash of red, but his eyes were falling closed as his head tilted back and he groaned loud and long. 

There was a distant sound, dull and muffled, like something sliding across a smooth surface followed by a soft thump of wood on wood. He didn't hear anything else until another's heavy breathing was joining in with his own. Slitting his eyes open, he saw Derek standing there with parted lips and heaving chest. The older man's gaze was fixed downward, watching raptly as Stiles worked his dick. 

"It's flavored lube," Stiles heard himself say, though his voice was hardly recognizable to his own ears, having turned rough and deep. "Vanilla." He watched Derek swallow, eyes still staring as if mesmerized. "Want a taste?"

"Stiles," Derek husked, his voice also sounding an octave off from its normal tone. "Stiles," he repeated as he closed the distance and tore his attention away from Stiles' crotch in order to cup his cheek and rake his gaze over every inch of Stiles' flushed face. Stiles smirked, pleased that his name was the only thing Derek seemed capable of uttering. 

When they kissed, Stiles made a sound like a shot animal, short and shocked and shaken. He stopped stroking himself and grabbed at Derek's clothes with his greasy hands, pulling him closer and rocking against him as they kept on kissing. 

Pulling back from the kissing, Derek stared into Stiles' eyes and spoke in a hesitant whisper. "This," he paused, swallowed, then tried again, "why?"

It was nervousness that had Stiles' pulse jumping against Derek's fingers as they caressed his neck and shoulder. "I'm eighteen." He watched Derek's brow crinkle as if he didn't understand, but Stiles knew he must understand, had to have gotten the point. "Isn't that why you've been holding off?" Stiles asked, his own brows smushing together over his narrowed eyes.

Derek didn't seem to have a response to that, his mouth falling open and leaving his kiss-wet lips parted. He had a hunted look in his eyes, and Stiles tsked before pulling him back in for more kissing. "Just let go," he whispered into Derek's mouth, chasing the words with his tongue. Strong arms were suddenly wrapping tightly around him, pulling him away from the tree enough to have easy access to his back, ass, and thighs. "Yeah," encouraged Stiles. "Fuck yeah."

Then all of Derek's heat left him, slid down his body along with the man himself, until Stiles was looking down at the sight of his dick disappearing between Derek's lips. "Oh _fuck_ ," he choked out, digging the fingers of one hand in Derek's hair while the other reached back to scrabble for purchase on the tree. Derek watched him, seemingly amused, before closing his bright eyes and moaning as he slid down the lube-slick length. Stiles felt the head press against Derek's palate, a warm tongue curling and sliding all along the shaft. Another moan from Derek, and suddenly Stiles was being taken in further. He felt Derek swallow around him, and Christ but that was something new and fucking _amazing_. 

"Ohmygod," he cried in one strained breath, nails clawing so hard at the bark of the tree that he just knew he was going to have splinters, but he didn't care. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered in that moment except the things Derek was doing with his mouth. Derek was a fucking fellatio _god_. Stiles was going to go erect a shrine in Derek's honor, and he would make sacrifices there daily. Just so long as it meant that he could have more of this in the future. Or for it to just never end. 

Watching Derek was even better, in the worst way. Just feeling what he was doing to Stiles' dick was enough to have him almost tipping over the edge, but _watching_ him was making it damn near impossible to hold on to his tattered control. Derek was going to fucking town. His lips gleamed with spit and lube, his eyes would flutter open just enough to watch Stiles before falling closed in obvious bliss. Watching also made it impossible to ignore the fact that Stiles was fucking Derek's throat. On nearly every intake, Derek would be pressing his nose into Stiles' crotch and practically kissing his pelvis. 

It pained him to do it, but Stiles tugged at Derek's hair to get him to pull off. "I'm too close."

"So?" Derek licked his slick lips, and Stiles could smell the vanilla on his breath from there. "Then go ahead and come." Without waiting for a response, Derek shook his head free of Stiles’ fingers and dove back into his task. 

Stiles made a garbled sound and let the tree support him, since his legs decided to quit. Without even giving notice. The bastards. 

Derek seemed to notice his plight, and decided to assist by hefting Stiles up so that his legs were draped over Derek's shoulders. Stiles was sitting on Derek's shoulders with Derek's mouth working him like a pro and Derek's hands gripping possessively at his ass, and Stiles was done. That was it, all he could take. He was coming and Derek was _swallowing_ it. Making ridiculously pleased sounds, Derek continued to suck and swallow until Stiles was too sensitive. Derek let the spent dick slip from between his lips, lapping around the head just to make sure he got it all, and Stiles swore that if he wasn't already at that stage he would totally have fallen for the man right then and there. Slowly, Derek set Stiles' legs back down on the ground, then he stood back up by way of licking and kissing at Stiles' torso. He removed Stiles' shirt in the process, tossing it aside like the very fabric offended him. 

"Your turn," he murmured into Stiles' ear before dragging his tongue along the sensitive spot just behind it. "On your knees."

Because his knees were so weak, it was easy for Stiles to comply. The weakness of his knees had no influence, however, on how he nuzzled at the bulge in Derek's pants or how he nipped at Derek's abs just above his waistline. He was still a little stupid from his orgasm, so his fingers felt clumsy as they worked the fly open and pushed Derek's pants down. Derek didn't seem to mind, though, fingers lazily stroking Stiles’ cheeks and hair. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Stiles confessed, even as he carefully pulled the elastic of Derek’s briefs up and over his straining cock. “So, try not to come as quickly as I did.”

Derek just chuckled, his voice unnaturally low for him. Stiles thought it might have something to do with having fucked his throat open with his dick, and the knowledge made him groan. “I’ll fuck you later,” croaked Derek, thumb gently pressing at the hinge of Stiles’ jaw to get his mouth open nice and wide. “For now, I want your mouth. And your fingers.”

That brought Stiles up short, the crown of Derek’s dick warm against his bottom lip. He looked up at Derek as if to confirm the man had said what Stiles _thought_ he’d said. Derek was smiling gently down at him, and gave a tiny nod. 

Stiles could feel heat pooling low in his gut again as he quickly scrabbled to snatch back up the lube and re-coat his fingers. One slick hand curled around the base of Derek’s shaft while the other teased back behind his sack, pressing and sliding and searching. Stiles stroked Derek a couple of times, coating him in vanilla flavoring. Then he leaned close and lapped at him, licking it all away again, feeling the dick pulse and jerk when his tongue dragged along a particularly sensitive spot. Precum was smeared across his cheek, lube and spit slid wetly down his chin, and Stiles reveled in it all. 

He flicked a blunt nail against the rim of Derek’s hole, making Derek’s hips jerk and a hiss leak between his clenched teeth. Stiles took advantage of the forward motion of Derek’s hips, wrapping wet lips around his cock and sliding smoothly down. Simultaneously, Stiles gently worked one slick finger inside of Derek. Above him, Derek was gasping and cursing and praising Stiles. Thick fingers scraped across his scalp and tugged at his hair, and Stiles had never been more pleased about having let his hair grow out. 

Stiles couldn’t take Derek all the way, like Derek was able to do. He wondered how Derek had obtained that ability, how much experience he had, if he’d only done it back in New York. Something about the thought of Derek having recently been with someone else made the pleasant feelings that had been growing in Stiles sour and fall to the pit of his stomach like jagged stones. 

Resisting the urging grip of Derek’s hands, Stiles pulled off his dick and looked up at him. He held completely still, finger pausing mid-thrust, and waited for Derek to open his eyes and meet his gaze. “This…” Stiles didn’t know what to say. Talking about feelings was never his strong suit, always something that made his skin itch. Still, he couldn’t stand it if things weren’t different after this, if Derek wasn’t officially his. Couldn’t stomach seeing Derek with anyone else. 

Thankfully, they knew each other well enough that words weren’t needed. Derek went back to stroking his cheek, and his smile was warm and understanding. “Me, too,” he whispered. “It’s the same for me.”

That was equivalent to a dramatic declaration of love, as far as Stiles could tell, and it made his already racing heart stumble into a quicker pace. “As long as we’re on the same page,” he rasped back, throat feeling tight. He kept his eyes on Derek as he slowly removed his finger and drizzled more lube on it and the other digits. When he returned to Derek’s hole, working two in that time, Derek’s eyes fell closed again and he tipped his head back on a growling groan. 

Stiles nuzzled down Derek’s wet dick, breathing him in, rubbing his swollen lips against the hot flesh. Derek smelled so fucking good, and the vanilla scent mixed surprisingly well. Bending lower, he angled his head back so he could lick at where Derek’s hole was taut around his fingers. Derek spasmed and cried out, reaching for the tree Stiles had been pinned against. 

Moving carefully, his fingers still buried inside Derek, Stiles shuffled forward on his knees between Derek’s legs until he was behind him and turned towards him. He slid his fingers out, then, and used both hands on Derek’s hips to guide him forward, directing Derek to brace himself against the tree. “I’ve always wanted to try this,” he whispered against Derek’s bare ass, watching the muscles of Derek’s back twitch at the words. “Is this okay?”

“You seriously don’t need to ask that,” Derek ground back at him over his shoulder as he arched his spine just right to present himself fully to Stiles. “You don’t need to ask for anything, when it comes to me.” 

Stiles’ breath stuttered out of him and he slid his hands to grip Derek’s ass and part his cheeks. “I just want to be sure,” he said, watching his thumb rub and press at Derek's pink, slickened hole. 

“Anything you want,” he heard Derek whisper roughly. “Anything.”

It was quite the invitation, and Stiles knew that it extended beyond what they were doing in that moment. He knew it tied back to the other admission, that it was a promise. 

As Stiles pressed the pointed end of his tongue into Derek, chasing the taste of vanilla, he witnessed Derek being the most vocal he’d ever heard. Every breath resulted in a sound--a cry or grunt or something that might have been a word. He worked fingers in alongside his tongue, and Derek was practically howling. It was incredible to witness, as if being privy to one of the world’s most coveted secrets. He hoped that no one else had seen Derek exactly like this, even if they _had_ gotten to share his bed. A selfish part of him wanted these reactions to be reserved purely for him, for _his_ tongue and _his_ fingers. 

“Stiles,” Derek whined. Literally _whined_. He rocked his hips back as if demanding Stiles press deeper. “Stiles,” he said again, his tone pleading and demanding. “ _More_.”

Stiles had already gotten hard again, having watched Derek fall apart on the end of his tongue and fingers, and his dick twitched at the thought of giving Derek exactly what he seemed to be asking. The small bottle of lube was already over halfway used up, but there was still plenty left to slick his cock. “You’re sure?” he asked as he slid his fingers free and placed a biting kiss to Derek’s tailbone. 

“Stop _asking_ ” growled Derek, glaring over his shoulder. “Just fucking get up here already.”

Huffing a chuckle, Stiles rose off his sore knees and ignored the leaves and dirt that fell away as he moved. “I think it’s definitely your sweet personality that did it for me.” He placed a kiss on Derek’s shoulder as he guided himself where he needed to be. They both moaned low and long as he slid home, and he punctuated it with more kisses to Derek’s shoulder and the back of his neck. 

“Don’t stop,” Derek ordered, breathless, as he canted his hips to get Stiles to fuck him harder. 

Stiles tried to grab Derek’s hips and hold him still, shifting them so that he had Derek bent over further, giving experimental little jabbing thrusts as he positioned him. When one such thrust caused Derek to cry out and clench around him, Stiles knew he’d found the right angle. “There we go,” he purred, one hand smoothing along Derek’s spine while the other had a talon grip on Derek’s hip. Derek had returned to his vocal state, though was even louder with Stiles’ dick in him than he’d been with his tongue. 

And, the view. _Oh_ , the view. 

Moonlight glinted off the sweat coating Derek’s back, highlighting every muscle as he tensed and rocked and curved his spine. That sculpted ass looked incredible framing Stiles’ glistening dick, and Stiles couldn’t help but slide his hands down and over to grip the cheeks and alternate between spreading them and pressing them closed. Derek seemed to particularly enjoy that, head thrown back and cries gone roar-hoarse. 

Stiles saw Derek remove one of his hands from the tree and reach down to presumably stroke himself. He leaned forward over Derek’s back, kissing again at his neck and shoulder, as he wrapped an arm around him and knocked Derek’s hand away to take over the task. “Like touching you,” he explained, as if he needed to excuse his actions. Derek’s response was to turn his head enough to awkwardly catch Stiles’ lips in a kiss. 

Then they were panting into each other’s mouths, lips pressed against each other but no longer moving. Derek was coming hot and wet over Stiles’ knuckles, rocking back onto Stiles’ dick to fuck himself through it. Everything became impossibly tighter, hotter, and Stiles practically whimpered as he lowered his mouth to bite Derek’s shoulder. The pleasure then was the type of spiking, searing bliss that Stiles always thought was romanticized fiction. He shook with it, hips pressed as tightly against Derek as was physically possible, and could only think “yes” and “don’t ever let it end.”

But, like all good things, it slowly did. He still felt a pleasant pulse deep inside, even as his dick lost its firmness and slipped out of Derek from all the lube and cum. “Jesus,” he garbled into Derek’s shoulder.

“Nope, just me,” Derek snarked back, voice raw and amused. 

“You sure? I’m pretty certain I just had a religious experience.”

Derek laughed at that, turning and sliding his arms around Stiles’ waist to pull him into a firm hug. “Maybe I’m the second coming.”

Smirking, Stiles kissed at Derek’s whisker-rough jaw. “Well, that was certainly _mine_. Get it? Because I-”

“I get it.” Derek gave Stiles’ ass a playful little smack. “God, what have I gotten myself into…”

“I don’t what know about _you_ , but I know what _I_ just got myself _off_ into.”

With a groan, Derek shoved Stiles away and started picking up his clothing. “Come on. We’re going inside and taking a shower, then getting some sleep.” Stiles could hear him muttering to himself lowly about crazy humans who couldn’t have just done things the _normal_ way so that they could already be in a bed. 

Grinning wide, Stiles gathered up his own clothing and followed Derek back to the house.

**Author's Note:**

> ~And then they lived happily ever after, fucking like bunnies every day and night.~
> 
> I promise my next story will actually have...you know...story.


End file.
